


Everybody Loves Teddy

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Collars, Community: hp_3some, Dubious Consent, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, Sex Pollen, pheremones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:52:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Teddy becomes an Auror, he is absolutely certain that he will be partnered with his godfather and long-time crush. But when Harry gives him to Draco instead, Teddy tries to figure out how he fits into things. Add in a case that threatens the life of both Harry and Neville, and a new, highly dangerous illegal plant, and Teddy’s life quickly becomes more complicated than he could ever have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody Loves Teddy

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the exchange fest at hp_3somes on livejournal as a gift for sdkshelly. <3!!!
> 
> My original note to my recipient: _As soon as I saw your prompts, I knew I wanted to write something with Teddy and play with his abilities. I hadn’t quite expected Neville to worm his way into the story, but there he is! There might be a bit more plot than intended, and not terribly well resolved, but I do hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it for you. So much love, hon!! <3_
> 
> And of course, I don't own the characters or world of Harry Potter; I'm just playing with them and having fun!

On the day that Teddy graduates from the Auror training academy, everyone is there. Grandmum is proud, and Great Aunt Cissa stands with her, their hands intertwined. Great Uncle Lucius has stayed home, but that’s fine with Teddy since honestly, he’s not part of _everyone_ in Teddy’s mind. Harry is there, performing the ceremony, handing each graduate the scroll holding their new assignment with his left hand, while he shakes hands with his right.

_Everyone_ is there.

Including cousin Draco, the one person Teddy would rather not be there.

It’s not that Teddy doesn’t like Draco. In fact, Draco spoiled him unmercifully while Teddy was growing up, and what little boy wouldn’t love the gifts and trips and packages sent while he was at Hogwarts? But that was when he was a _child_ and now that he’s an adult… well… Draco is in the way.

Because somewhere in all that, while Draco was an adoring cousin and Harry was an adoring godfather, Harry and Draco started to date.

They thanked Teddy when they told him about their relationship during the summer after his sixth year. And he smiled then because _of_ _course_ it was a great thing to see his favorite people smiling and happy.

But it wasn’t a great thing.

It _isn’t_ a great thing.

Because in Teddy’s mind, Harry is his.

And he knows Harry feels the same, doesn’t he? 

#

Most of the new Aurors open their scrolls immediately, calling out to each other as they are paired up. Many of them will be working with each other, although a few are partnered with more experienced Aurors.

Teddy isn’t worried; he knows which name will be in his scroll. His godfather has protected him for the first twenty years of his life; he can’t imagine that won’t continue now as he starts work in the field.

“Aren’t you even curious?” The voice is a slow drawl as Draco settles into the chair next to him. “You might be lucky and score Flint as a partner. I’ve heard he’s requested a transfer from Finnigan.”

“I heard Longbottom wants to work with Finnigan,” Teddy says, smiling politely at his cousin. He has to keep up appearances after all. 

“Harry said he’s shaken everyone’s partnership up.” Draco pours himself a glass of water and takes a sip. “Even his own.”

That only makes Teddy’s smile broader. He can hear the faint distaste in Draco’s voice, the disappointment. After all, they have been partnered for five years now. Harry had once claimed that he was the only one who could work with Draco without killing the prick.

Teddy’s heard all the jokes in the bullpen, about how Harry went from not killing the prick to sucking it instead. He laughs awkwardly when they say it, and everyone thinks it’s because Harry’s his godfather.

“Do you already know who your new partner is?” Teddy keeps up the facade of polite conversation.

Draco takes another sip of water, his grey eyes stormy. Teddy watches, sees the faint tightening in his jaw, the tell that his cousin is upset despite the bland mask. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry that you won’t be partnered with Harry any more.” Once upon a time, Teddy called them Uncle Harry and Cousin Draco. At twenty, those names seem silly, particularly when he works with both of them. He sees that twitch in Draco’s jaw when Teddy’s mouth forms the name of Draco’s lover, and it almost makes him smile. It bothers Draco, the familiarity that Teddy has with Harry. Teddy loves to poke at those chinks in their relationship, twist and tease things to see what might happen.

Harry has belonged to Teddy far longer than he has belonged to Draco. Teddy is quite sure that eventually, Draco will be gone and Harry will still be his. And he is willing to play the quiet, subtle game in order to win through.

His smile blooms when Harry joins them, not faltering despite the way Harry takes Draco’s hand. “You haven’t opened your scroll yet,” Harry observes.

Teddy laughs. “That’s all everyone is interested in.”

“Go on, do it.” Harry nudges his foot under the table.

Since Harry wants him to, Teddy does, slitting one finger under the seal to pry it open carefully. He unrolls the paper and skims past the top— _Congratulations, Auror Theodore Remus Lupin!_ —to get to the important part just beyond.

_For your first year of assignments, you will be partnered with Auror Draco Malfoy_.

Teddy looks up, startled. “But I thought—”

“Draco will be the perfect partner for you,” Harry says, as if he didn’t even hear Teddy’s startled protest. “I need to work with Neville on an assignment down in Surrey, and I wanted to put you with someone that I trust, and I wanted Draco to have someone to work with that he can trust as well.”

“You could’ve put me with Flint,” Draco says idly, still looking at his glass.

“Davis requested him specifically for that illegal potions cross-continental sting. He’s the best one for infiltrating the Italian Quidditch league.” Harry rises, leaning to kiss Draco’s cheek before he straightens. “I know the two of you will work brilliantly together, and I trust that you’ll leave the bullpen in one piece while I’m gone.”

“Is Draco your second in command then?” Teddy inquires, mind working quickly to try to sort where his plans had gone wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong. “You can’t be going into undercover work, Harry. You’re the Head Auror.”

“And Draco will hold down the fort here,” Harry says firmly. “We need your strategic thinking keeping us organized at the center, Teddy. Both of you.”

“While the brave Gryffindors run heedlessly into battle,” Draco says dryly.

“Hardly.” Harry shakes his head. “You know as well as I that Neville has a good head on his shoulders.”

But not Harry. No, never Harry. For all that Teddy resents their relationship, he does know that Draco has been a _good_ partner for Harry here in the Aurors. He is level-headed and a brilliant tactician, and he has quite likely kept Harry alive more than once. It is a position Teddy knows he can fill. Neville is too quiet for Harry. Too calm.

But Harry is the Head Auror, and Teddy cannot argue with him, not on his first day as a fully accredited Auror. So he smiles and nods, and chats easily about those last few things that come up as Harry takes his leave.

Silence falls, stretching as Draco lingers over that one glass of water.

“You know,” Draco finally murmurs, “I am no more enthralled by our assignment than you are.”

Teddy looks at him. “Because we’re bound to headquarters?” he asks. “Or because of me?”

Draco smiles thinly. “Because Harry is my partner, and he has done this because he thinks it is the best way to protect you. But protecting _you_ means I am not protecting _him._ ”

“I love you, too, cousin.”

Lips pressed thin, the glare Draco gives him is sharp. “This isn’t about you, Teddy.” He pushes the glass to the center of the table, still almost as full as it was after he poured it. “Nor is it about me. It is always about Harry.” He stands, and as he turns, he says quietly, “I shall see you at eight o’clock sharp on Monday.”

“Of course.”

Teddy smiles a hello to his grandmother as she walks over, standing to hug her. The game may have changed, but it is not over. He should look at being partnered with Draco as an advantage: after all, the saying is to keep one’s friends close, and one’s enemies closer. And Draco is being kept as close as Teddy can manage now.

#

On Monday, the bullpen for the Aurors is a buzz of activity. Harry and Neville are already gone, and Draco is settling in, ensuring that the other Aurors are going to answer to him. It is a day for Teddy to stay silent and watchful, letting Draco take the control he has been given.

He has to admire the calm, collected way that Draco handles everything. No matter how offensive the comment, no matter who acts out against protocol, Draco simply keeps the same expression in place. He never explodes, which is strange, since Harry’s outbursts of temper are legendary. On the other hand, the Aurors seem to find Draco’s quiet anger more frightening, and by the end of the day there is no doubt who is in charge.

Draco sits down across from Teddy at their pair of desks. Teddy has already looked over Draco’s personal things, at least those that are on display. The biggest item is the picture of his son from a marriage long dissolved. Teddy remembers the boy—a tiny, pale, slender thing—as the occasional shadow of Harry’s boys, until Draco’s ex-wife declared that he was to have nothing to do with the child. The picture is the only evidence Teddy has seen of Scorpius in the past several years. Draco doesn’t even mention him.

“Have you settled in?”

It’s a simple question for a first full day of work. Teddy has been settled in at the Aurors for two years now while he worked through the training. Two years of being in and out of the bullpen, of handling minor assignments, of training in the sparring and dueling rooms down the hall. But this is his first desk, and he knows that it looks as if he hasn’t yet figured out what to do with it.

Teddy’s quill is neat in the corner, along with three pots of ink—red, green, black—so that he can make his notes in colour as he has always done. He has his scrolls and his preferred stationery. His nameplate still shines. But there are no personal touches other than the coloured ink. Nothing to show who Teddy Lupin _is_.

He doesn’t need to show Draco who he is. Draco knows him, and has known him since he was a child. So Teddy shrugs. “I’m doing well enough. I went over the current assignments.”

That takes them into a discussion of strategy, and soon they are mired in the depths of tactics. This is part of what Teddy loves about this work. He loves to be in the field and thinking on the fly, but seeing the broad overview of where everyone is: this is one of his strengths. And it is Draco’s strength as well; the hours slip away from them as they track every single member of the department on the board.

Teddy saves the most important pair for last. As he pulls out the folder for Neville and Harry, his stomach rumbles. He flushes at the raised eyebrow Draco directs his way. “We can order in,” Teddy offers. “My treat.”

Draco shakes his head. “No need. We’ll pick up on the way and go back to mine. We need to get out of here, and you ought to see the secondary headquarters, in case it’s ever needed.”

“Secondary headquarters?” Teddy’s brow furrows because he’s never heard of such a thing. “This is the MLE. Aurors can’t be headquartered anywhere but here, can they?”

“Not the entire department, no.” Draco shrugs out of his uniform robes, hanging them neatly on a peg by their desks. His outerwear robes are heavy and thick, wrapping around him and draping elegantly. Teddy feels like a child by comparison, his own cold weather robes still off the rack construction, purchased with his own money.

“A few years back, Harry and I worked to mirror the board,” Draco nods at the place where their entire strategy is laid out, “at the house. He wanted it so that he could work if he happened to wake up at half two in the morning with an idea. I wanted it in case for some reason we ever needed to work outside the Ministry.” He loops his scarf neatly, tucking it in. It is overkill, Teddy thinks; the October nights aren’t that chill, not yet. “I fashioned the final charms, however, so that the board at home might be unlinked from the board here.” 

It doesn’t take long for Teddy to fully process these thoughts. “You think there might be a problem here,” he says quietly. “You’ve set up a safeguard and you did it years ago. What game are you playing, Draco?”

“The long one.” Draco waves at Teddy to finish putting on his things. “And one I hope never needs to play to completion. However, if it does, we shall be prepared.”

Draco touches the tip of his wand to the folder for Neville and Harry’s assignment, and it glows bright blue for a moment, then fades. “Everything will be waiting for us at home,” he murmurs, and he ushers Teddy out the door.

#

For the next month, they go on as they have begun. They begin their day at eight o’clock sharp in the bullpen, surrounded by strong tea and hot coffee. The day ends in the dark of night back at Grimmauld Place, in Draco and Harry’s home and the secondary hidden headquarters for the Aurors.

October slips into November, Halloween passing in a small rash of incidents where wizarding folk trick the Muggles with magic, and the Aurors find themselves helping the Hit Wizards keep control. Life is busy, and Teddy is surprised at just how _easy_ it is to work with Draco when he doesn’t think about the fact that the bed Harry shares with him is right upstairs, every night.

He sees how Harry’s absence wears on Draco, how Draco twitches every time the Floo springs to life. But there are few messages from Harry, and only a few more than that from Neville. As they lay out the neatly planned op on the board, Draco’s arms are crossed to hold himself together. Teddy stands next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“They’re fine, you know,” he says.

Draco glances at him. “Obviously.”

“No, I mean it.” Some time in the last month, Teddy has softened towards Draco. Working with him has eased the jealousy. He does not want Draco to be with Harry, but he doesn’t dislike his cousin either. It pains Teddy to see Draco aching. “Neville’s got a good head on his shoulders, and they’ve got both of us working the op back here.” Teddy leans into Draco slightly, as if he’s still a child, his head tilting against Draco’s. “Let’s break for the night. Get a drink.”

Draco gives the board one last lookover, before waving a hand to send it back into hiding. “Firewhiskey?” he asks, summoning the carafe and two glasses.

The talk of work doesn’t stop with the start of the alcohol. It never does. After all, Teddy and Draco have three things in common: family, Harry, and work. Neither of them feels the need to discuss the link that is their Black blood, and Teddy generally tries to steer the discussions away from Harry. So that leaves work.

They settle on the sofa, and after several refills, Teddy is working on his fourth glass of Firewhiskey and is sprawled across the cushions, his stocking feet resting against Draco’s lap. It is comfortable, and in some ways comforting, to have human contact. Teddy was always an affectionate child, but as he grew older, he had to be more careful.

Now, though, he enjoys that Draco lets him have this liberty, once Draco’s defenses have been drowned in the bottle.

“There is something wrong with that case,” Draco murmurs.

“Which case?” Teddy swirls his glass, looking at the way the amber is lit from the glow of the fire.

“Harry’s.” Draco drains his glass and sets it down without refilling. His hands fall across Teddy’s legs, fingers idly drumming against his ankle as he thinks. “I can’t manage to put my finger on it, but we are missing a vital component of the problem.”

“You’re being obsessive because it’s Harry,” Teddy tells him. The thrum of fingertips against his bare skin is distracting. Warm tapping, just between where his sock ends and his trouser legs have slid up. He tries to will Draco to change the touch, to stroke instead of tap, then goes hot as he realizes what he’s thought.

He’d move, but that would disturb everything and might even require explanation. So he stays, shifting uncomfortably, heels pressing into Draco’s lap.

“I’m not obsessive,” Draco snaps. 

He turns towards Teddy, shifting as he does so, and Teddy’s feet slide down until his heel is pressed in Draco’s crotch. Teddy tries not to think about it, until he feels the soft ridge there. He can’t resist, moving his heel just enough until that ridge hardens. He tries to make it look unplanned, as if the motion was just a part of him readjusting so that he can sit up slightly and be attentive. The slight tense twitch in Draco’s jaw tells Teddy that he is aware of what has happened (how could he not be?) but he says nothing, and the two go on as if Teddy isn’t subtly massaging Draco’s slowly hardening prick.

He doesn’t know what he wants to get out of this. For Harry to realize that Draco’s a cheating bastard? It wouldn’t work that way, Teddy knows, not if Draco cheats with _him_. Harry would just be hurt. But it amuses Teddy to play this game, and he wonders how far he could push it. Whether he might find a way to worm between the two men and end up in Harry’s bed.

“You are obsessive,” Teddy tells Draco. “And you always have been. So’s Harry, for that matter, so I suppose it makes you a good fit in that respect. But if you think you see an anomaly, it could actually be there. So perhaps we ought to take another look at the board.”

“We are neither of us at our best.”

Teddy shrugs. “Sometimes an altered state of mind is all you need to see the obvious.” He moves to settle in close to Draco’s hip. It means stopping his slow tease, although he can see the evidence of what he’s done, but instead he can press hip to hip and lean across Draco to pick up the wand that has been discarded on the side table. He presses it into Draco’s hand and closes his fingertips around it. “Summon the board. I’ll pour you another glass, and we’ll see what we see. You never know what might come up.”

Draco grips the wand and Teddy’s hand falls away. If it happens to graze over Draco’s lap as Teddy withdraws, that is purely accidental, even as Teddy’s breath hitches when Draco’s does. There are soft points of colour on Draco’s cheeks, placed there by arousal and drink, and Teddy finds it strangely attractive. He has wondered for a long time what Harry sees in this man who is so pale and pointed, but now he thinks perhaps he can see it for himself.

If it weren’t for Harry, on so many levels, Teddy would try to pull tonight. He would forget the strategy board and slide his fingers between the two buttons of Draco’s shirt and touch that smooth, pale skin. He could be whoever Draco needs him to be, and with enough drink, he suspects Draco would let him.

But there _is_ Harry. And Harry is in love with Draco, and Teddy in love with Harry, and there is still a job with a possible idiosyncrasy that might mean he is in trouble as well.

So Teddy slides back into his place on the sofa, the side of his body fit close to Draco’s, his hand resting on Draco’s knee as he considers the board that Draco has summoned. It lays out the entirety of Harry’s plan. It shows where Neville’s strength lies, in working with those who are suspected of growing dangerous plants that might be feeding into the cross-continental potions ring that Flint and Davis are targeting. It shows Harry’s skill at working people, getting to know them and getting them to trust him. There are glamours for this purpose, ones which will keep them all safe and unknown, as long as they are conscious to keep them cast.

Teddy’s fingers idly slide against the fabric of Draco’s trousers. Slipping, stroking: the motion is almost entirely unconscious. He likes to touch, and Draco’s trousers are made of a soft, supple fabric. He can feel the slip of it between his fingers and Draco’s skin, and it anchors him, centers him while he lets his mind worry over the details, trying to find the gap that Draco can sense but not see.

Draco’s hand falls over his, clenching tightly until Teddy stops. “There.” He points with the wand in his other hand, the board lighting up one particular image. “I almost didn’t recognize him, but the picture changes and occasionally shows his true form. He must have been wearing a glamour when the photo was taken.”

“Who is he?” Teddy leans forward, his palm pressing flat against Draco’s leg. That hand holds him in place, but it doesn’t move him away, and Teddy takes that as some kind of a victory.

“Bartholomew Leviticus Shade.” The name inscribes itself upon the board beneath the name that was already there, Benjamin Short. “He is a smuggler, but of more importance, he has threatened to kill Harry on at least three occasions.”

“What?” Teddy forgets the game in the face of this information.

Draco’s attention is on the board, but he lets go of Teddy, lifting his hand to idly run his fingers through Teddy’s hair. Soothing, as if he were a child. _Or a lover._ The two sensations crash in Teddy’s mind, and he tries to tease the meaning from the gesture.

“Harry arrested him when he was a young Auror, about your age,” Draco explains. “Long before my time in the department. At the time, someone died. A young woman, Shade’s sister. He blamed Harry for her death, and swore he would get revenge. He has arrested Shade twice since: once during our first case worked together, and once more about a year ago. I wasn’t aware that Shade had been released.”

“If he’s been arrested three times, how does—”

“He keep going free?” Draco smiled wryly. “He has connections. Deep connections that we have been unable to break, despite the threats against Harry’s life. After all, unless he actively comes after Harry, we cannot arrest him for threats alone. But if Harry cannot see past the glamour and recognize him, and if there is any risk that Shade might see through _Harry’s_ glamour, then he is at risk.”

Teddy turns, and when he does he is too close to Draco’s face. His lips part, a soft exhale before he gathers his words. “This is too much to be sent by secure channels,” he says. “We ought to take the news to him personally.”

Fingers still thread through his hair, tightening momentarily before Draco leans his forehead against Teddy’s. “It is not the _best_ decision,” he says slowly. “But it is the one we both need, so yes. Tomorrow morning we’ll go.”

They stand, leaning unsteadily against each other, and for just a moment Teddy feels the heat of Draco’s body pressed close. Teddy’s eyes close, and he feels the way his body shifts and changes. It isn’t a conscious desire; it is a reaction to the scent of male musk and need.

When he opens his eyes, Draco’s eyes go wide and startled, then his expression shuts down, going blank.

“Teddy, no.” The words are short and sharp, as if he is four years old or perhaps a crup caught peeing on the carpet. Draco pushes him away and stalks out.

“You can stay in the guest room.”

Teddy hears the call from the hallway, then Draco’s footsteps head up the stairs. Teddy glances at the ornate mirror over the mantlepiece. 

In his reflection, Harry stares back at him, green eyes glittering with desire.

Teddy blinks; he shudders as he returns to himself. 

There is nothing left to do but go upstairs and wank.

#

Surrey is a lovely town, where the weather is milder than London at this time of year. They arrive on a day when it is positively balmy, in Teddy’s opinion. Cool and crisp rather than chilled to the bone with a threat of snow. Despite the cool weather, people still walk outside briskly, greeting others. It seems to be a friendly place, where Muggles move about, utterly unaware of the wizarding population that lies within their midst. 

The folks of Surrey are some of the best dressed wizards Teddy has ever seen. Aurors are expected to learn Muggle style, and to be able to blend in no matter where they go. Harry has seen to it that the Aurors are well versed in Muggle culture and couture. But Surrey seems to be one of those rare places where the wizarding folk have grown up among the Muggle enough to know it instinctively. If Teddy weren’t trained to look for those small tells that people have, he might not even spot the magical people.

Two young people sit on a park bench, heads bent close together, sharing the headphones of a Muggle music device. The one with her eyes closed, her fingers almost but not quite touching the boy’s hand, is a witch. Teddy can spot the tip of her wand just peeking out of her handbag. But the boy is all Muggle. He shakes his head; they will not have an easy road ahead of them. The wizarding world has definitely improved since the war Harry fought so long ago, but it is still not easy to straddle the two worlds.

Draco catches Teddy’s elbow, and he startles. “What is it?” Teddy asks.

“Neville, Harry, and Shade.” Draco slips an arm about Teddy’s waist, drawing him in close. When he tilts his head, they could be two lovers sharing a moment. “Follow my lead, and do not deviate from the story we created.”

There had been no time to warn Harry and Neville, so Draco and Teddy spent the morning creating their own background. It is Draco’s job to insinuate them into the op seamlessly, and to give the cues to Harry that will hopefully be caught. It is Teddy’s job to look pretty.

Draco is glamoured, of course. Everyone knows his story, as much as everyone remembers The Boy Who Slew Voldemort and The Boy Who Slew the Snake. They are three well-known faces in Britain, were they wearing their own visage. But Teddy is no one, and more importantly, Teddy can be _anyone_.

Today he has shaped himself after a much younger Draco. His chin is rounder, his face not so long. His hair is more white than blond, and his eyes have an edge of blue to the grey. But still, he knows it will make anyone look twice. He hopes it will make Harry look.

If Draco was so unsettled by Teddy’s appearance as Harry, Teddy has to wonder if looking like Draco might help him with Harry.

Of course, first they have to save his life.

Teddy puts a sashay into his step as they approach the table. Draco raises one hand, waving it in a sharp motion as he calls out Harry’s name for this op. “Nigel!” When Harry looks up, his brow furrowing, Draco rushes them forward, carrying two chairs from another table with them. Draco and Teddy drop to sit, and Draco sighs. “I thought we’d missed you.”

“And who is this?” Harry looks past Draco at Teddy, still frowning. Neville seems to have found something fascinating in the dessert menu and is studying it carefully, while Shade looks on, curious.

Draco rolls his eyes. “No one of import. He’s my latest toy, but he utterly refused to stay home alone while I went out. He insisted on accompanying me, and rather than see him destroy the place out of sheer boredom in my absence, I allowed him to come.”

_No one of import_. The words are part of the cover, but they hurt, because they feel true. Teddy is Draco’s cousin, he is Harry’s godson, but he is not _important._ Sitting here with these men, he feels like a child joining the adults for the first time, and they give him about as much attention.

Except for Shade, who looks at him closely. Teddy touches the choker at his throat and drops his eyes, a tell that they had settled on this morning. It takes everything he has not to look up again, and in the end he takes a deep breath and grows two small eyes that are hidden by the hair of his fringe. The view is blurred, but possible, and he can quietly watch the proceedings with none the wiser.

“I had no idea that you work with such colorful people,” Shade says dryly. His expression is cold. Calculating. Teddy watches, and he can see the flicker of the glamour around him. This is one of Teddy’s specialties; his eyes are sensitive to the nuances of appearance. He figures it has something to do with being able to change his own.

“Work? Merlin, no.” Draco shakes his head. “We simply… supply a few things.” A lazy shrug punctuates the words. “Delicate things. Things that aren’t necessarily _common_ if one were to go looking.”

“Expensive things.” Harry’s tone is flat.

Teddy breathes an inward sigh. He is certain Harry knows exactly who they are, but he has yet to understand why they are here.

“Of _course_ there is a cost.” Draco smirks. “If there weren’t, how could I possibly afford toys as fine as this one?”

“Is he for sale?”

Teddy shivers at the question, and he glances up, risking looking at Harry with his real eyes. The image is strange, seen from two angles through four eyes, and he closes the ones in his fringe. He licks his lips, watching Harry closely.

Harry’s tell is a swallow. Where Draco tenses, Harry’s mouth goes dry, and his adam’s apple bobs with each swallow of spit to lubricate his mouth. Teddy has known this tell since he was young, and he sees it now, sees the way Harry swallows again as Teddy lets his tongue peek out.

He could smile. He wants to smile, but instead, his fingers press against the choker at his throat.

Shade leans forward, his fingers skating over Teddy’s cheek. “He seems well-behaved.”

“In public,” Draco agrees. Teddy gives him a look, and Draco takes the opportunity to cuff him lightly behind the ear. “When at home, he is quite thoroughly insubordinate and in need of punishment.”

“Thirty galleons for the night.” Harry lays the coin on the table between them. 

Draco pockets the money. “Thirty galleons, and I’ll be coming home with you to ensure there’s no damage done.”

“You buy boys?” Shade rises, shaking his head. “Your toy is not my type. I’ll see you back at the house later, once I’ve procured my own entertainment for the night. Calvin?”

Neville’s cheeks are a bright flushed rose. “Er. No thank you. I think I’ll just entertain myself.” The flush deepens abruptly. “Not that—I’ve work to do in the greenhouse. With the plants.”

Shade leans in close, his words a whisper against Neville’s cheek. “All work and no play, Calvin. If not tonight, then tomorrow. Take a break. _I insist_.”

“Tomorrow,” Neville agrees quickly.

“And we have some place to be.” Harry stands, and holds out one hand. At Draco’s urging, Teddy steps forward, then kneels at his feet. A chain is clipped to the back of the choker, tugged lightly until Teddy is on his feet.

It is everything he has ever wanted, but nothing like what he has dreamed.

This isn’t how he expected things to happen, but Teddy will go with it. For Harry.

#

“It won’t be long,” Neville says quietly.

His broad hands are covered in gloves and thrust into the dirt, digging through the soil attached to thick roots as he moves seedlings from smaller pots to larger ones. Teddy leans against the wall, watching. Herbology was never his strong suit, and he has no idea what exactly Neville is working with other than that it is illegal. The notes for the op weren’t specific for this, not yet.

He ought to ask, so he could update the board tonight. He and Draco brought it with them, just the part that deals with Neville and Harry.

But all Teddy can think about now is that Draco and Harry are locked together in a room, ostensibly discussing the case. Teddy is fairly certain _discussing_ is not what they are doing.

Perhaps he ought to try to distract himself by thinking about work after all.

“What are those?” he asks. He tries to identify the plant himself. Long spiky leaves and a single central column with buds for many flowers. Many different coloured flowers, like it will be a rainbow when they bloom.

“Something new,” Neville says quietly. “And I believe this is what we came for. They could be used in Potions, although Draco would know more about how to use them than I do. I’ve just been looking at how they affect things on their own.”

Teddy reaches out and Neville’s gloved hand closes around his wrist before his fingers can graze the flower. “Don’t,” Neville says. “The nectar is incredibly potent.”

“What is it?” Teddy asks again.

“ _Pectus Pectoris Lilium._ ” Neville touches one which has already started to bloom, and a fresh dot of fluid teases from the tip, blood red against the pale brown of his gloves. “The lily of the heart. I haven’t been able to test it thoroughly yet—I’ll do that when we get samples back to Britain—but the first look at it appears to point to it manipulating emotions in a positive manner.”

“Like a love potion.” Teddy can’t breathe for thinking of it. He watches another slow bead of liquid form and he longs to touch it, just to see what would happen.

“Like a love potion,” Neville confirms. “And therefore a restricted substance. We don’t know whether it forces a subject to act against their will, or—”

The door opens, and Teddy jumps, turning. He stumbles as he tries to regain his balance, hands windmilling out, catching on to the first steady things that they find.

Neville.

The plant.

He feels the press of leather against his palm, the spreading spot of wet against his skin. And then it is gone, leaving him burning. Hungry. Shivering.

“I’m okay,” he says quickly, not wanting Neville to know he has been stained by the plant. Teddy cradles his palm to his chest, his attention locked on Draco and Harry. “You brought him up to date?”

“Completely,” Draco confirms.

“We need to finish up here and get the evidence out before Shade comes back.” Harry’s voice is low. His gaze drifts to Teddy, lingering for a long moment. 

Teddy can’t help but stare back. He knows Harry is supposed to still be talking. Or perhaps he and Draco ought to be talking, outlining a plan. But none of it comes to mind right now.

“I can finish transplanting…” Neville’s voice trails off. “Teddy, are you all right?”

“Of course I am.” His voice sounds odd to his own ears. Deeper, warmer. He rubs his hands along his arms and feels every bit of their path. “I might have… when I fell…” He feels so strange right now, as if his head is quite light and airy. Teddy thinks he might float. If he were to have a lie down, he’d float right up into the air, and without the ceiling he could go into the sky.

It’s quite a strange feeling, the idea of flying without a broom, but at the same time it’s quite pleasant. Unusual.

Neville catches his hand, turning it over. Teddy feels the touch like a skim of sensation over his skin. Neville’s fingertip is light, tracing a circle in Teddy’s palm, and Teddy groans.

“Teddy,” Harry says, something caught between curious and pained in his voice. He takes a step closer and stops, body stiff as if he holds himself in place by sheer will.

“I’m fine,” Teddy tells him. “More than fine. I feel… brilliant.”

“He touched it,” Neville says.

Oh yes, Teddy touched the plant, but he doesn’t care about that right now. He cares about the feel of the touch against his skin, the way his entire body is focused on that simple swirl. “Don’t stop,” he murmurs, raising his gaze to meet Neville’s.

But the finger does stop as Neville’s grasp tightens. “Teddy,” he says warningly. He looks as if he might bolt, but he’s holding on for dear life.

“Put the green eyes away.” Draco’s tone is sharp, and Teddy blinks at him, not sure what he’s done. Draco’s touch is butterfly soft, ghosting past his eyes, barely drifting against his eyebrows. “Your eyes are green.” His voice is gentler now. Careful. “You could be Harry.”

“I _could_ be Harry, if you’d like,” Teddy offers. “Or I could be you.” He could be anyone he wants to be.

He could be anyone _they_ want him to be. He is clay, his body a thing to be molded by the desires of others.

“We need to get out of here.” 

Harry sounds far away to Teddy’s ears, and the words are unpleasant. Teddy doesn’t want to go anywhere. He wants to stay right here, to shrug out of these constricting clothes. He wants to lie down, he wants to crawl under Draco’s skin, or Neville’s, or Harry’s. He wants to touch and be touched. He lets his fingers dance over the skin of Draco’s forearm, watching fine, pale hairs lift at the static as his fingers pass by. Draco shivers, and Teddy _feels_ that reaction, takes it in and lets it out again with a soft sigh.

“I can take care of you,” he whispers.

“Teddy.” Neville touches his shoulder, and Teddy lets go of Draco to turn to him instead. He goes willingly into Neville’s arms, kissing pliant lips that whisper a name half heard.

“Don’t,” Draco cautions, still close but not touching, and Teddy doesn’t know if he’s talking to him or Neville. “Teddy—”

“Please.” The room is hot, and Teddy picks at the hem of his shirt. He cries out when arms wrap around him, pulling him close. When the room twists, Teddy swallows hard, hands clenched, trying to keep his balance when the world disappears.

#

Teddy’s eyes are closed. He curls on the sofa in the hotel room, his palm pressed against Draco’s chest, the solid thump of his heart keeping time with Teddy’s own. He curls his fingers, slipping them under the fabric of Draco’s shirt, needing to feel that skin to skin contact.

“Teddy,” Draco warns, but Teddy pays no attention. He tugs the shirt loose enough, his hand gliding over the silvered scars on Draco’s abdomen.

“I can be Harry,” he promises. “I can be just like him now, or like he was when you were younger.” Teddy’s body shifts with his mood, and when his eyes flicker open, he is sure they must be green. He sits back, running his fingers through his hair until it stands up on end. “And I can be you for him.” 

Teddy doesn’t know why he hasn’t thought of this before. He doesn’t need to steal Harry from Draco, he simply needs to fit between them, the missing piece of their puzzle. When hands catch his, he frowns at Draco. “Don’t stop.”

Draco carefully takes Teddy’s hands, folding them together, holding them in front of him. “Teddy.”

“You say that like you can’t remember who I am.” Teddy smiles at that, licking his lips, watching Draco’s gaze follow the path of the tongue. “It’s okay, you know.”

“Harry and Neville will be back soon.” Draco rises and walks away. Teddy gets up to follow, not wanting to stay alone. “Now that they are aware of the danger, they’ll collect everything up and call in another team to take it away in order to finalize this operation. But you—we need to sort you soonest, before you decide you want to shag everything you see.”

Teddy blinks. “Not _everything_ I see. Not even everyone.” They’d walked past several fit blokes and birds on the way in, and not a one of them had caught his attention. “Just Harry. And you. And Neville would be nice, too. He’s in love with Harry, you know.”

“So are you.” Draco’s voice is resigned and low. “Did you think I don’t see how you look at him? And I see how Neville looks at him, when he thinks no one can see. And Harry—”

“Harry what?” Teddy stands next to Draco, hand sliding up his arm. Draco doesn’t need to touch him; he can touch Draco instead and that is brilliant too. He leans closer, pressing his chest against Draco’s back, and feels the hitch in his breath. “What about Harry?”

“He looks at you,” Draco admits. “When we walked in on that meal, and he saw you, he couldn’t look away.”

“I was you.” Teddy knows this is what Harry wants. But he can be what Harry wants, if it means he can have Harry.

“And at the same time, you were still you.” Draco turns quickly, one hand sliding down Teddy’s back, settling against his arse and keeping him locked there, close. His other hand touches the choker still at his throat, drawing a line along the edge of it. “You were impossible to ignore.” There is only a short pause, before Draco admits. “You _are_ almost impossible to ignore.”

Teddy’s head falls back and he sighs, wanting more from him. “Kiss,” he whispers.

And with a soft, reluctant moan, Draco does.

His tongue licks along the edge of the choker, teasing between metal and skin until Teddy whimpers from wanting more. Draco answers the sound with teeth skating lower, closing, pulling and sucking and leaving a mark behind. This is what Teddy _wants_. What Teddy _needs_. His fingers tangle in Draco’s hair, keeping him there, begging for more.

Something crashes; Teddy doesn’t want to look. Doesn’t want to know.

“Draco.” There is tight pain in Harry’s voice. Cheeks flushed, Draco turns from Teddy to look at him. 

“Is this how you protect him?” Harry demands. “Is _this_ taking care of him?”

“Yes.” Teddy answers, because whatever Draco says it will be wrong. But Teddy is _fine_ , more than fine, more than _well_ right now in this moment with his cock hard in his trousers and aching to be touched. He skims his shirt off, baring his skin, seeing it flash pale when he glances down. “He was taking care of me. I want you to take care of me.” He stands up, hands slightly spread, _showing_ Harry just how he feels.

“Teddy, you’re under the influence of—” Harry stops, muffled by Teddy’s mouth. Teddy would crawl up him, if he could. But he is already the taller of the two, so he winds his arms around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him in, claiming the mouth he has never dared touch before. He hears the indrawn breath, the soft groan as Neville watches.

Teddy looks over Harry’s shoulder, staring at Neville with bright green eyes. “I don’t love you like he does,” he says softly. “But I won’t leave you in the cold.”

Neville hasn’t moved yet, the pot he dropped shattered on the floor beneath his feet, dirt spread in a splatter around him. “I don’t—” He stumbles over the words. “I—Teddy, you need to recover. To stop—you need—”

“I need Harry,” Teddy says plainly. “And I need Draco, and I want you. It’s my choice.” His fingers fall to the fly of his trousers, undoing the button there and pushing them down along with his pants. He has spent so long hiding how he feels, but it is time to make his play. It is time to see what they will do, to ask… to beg.

He slides to his knees, hands stroking down Harry’s body and ending at his thighs. He looks up, lips parted slightly. “Please.”

“Neville?” Harry’s voice is tight, his hands on Teddy’s head, holding him in place as he stares down at him. “How long until the effects of the nectar wear off?”

“From what I’ve studied so far, I’d expect them to have worn off already,” Neville replies. “He didn’t get much on him, and it took us an hour to clean up and call in the others. Draco, was he—”

“In contact with me almost the entire time, yes, as you specified.”

Teddy doesn’t care about the conversation. He cares about the bulge he can see in Harry’s trousers, right in front of his face. His head changes shape subtly, narrowing to slip away from Harry’s grip so he can nuzzle that spot, rubbing his cheek against the hard length hidden behind soft fabric. His eyes close.

“He’s a metamorphmagus.” Harry’s fingers slide through Teddy’s hair, the strands silken and soft, tickling his ears as Harry lifts them and lets them drop again. Teddy loves the way Harry’s stance shifts, his hips rocking so very slightly against Teddy’s touch. “That may have changed things.”

“He is nearly impossible to ignore.” Draco’s voice is hoarse, rough, and close to Teddy’s ear. He crouches behind Teddy, his hands also in Teddy’s hair, skimming across the back of his neck, teasing the edge of the choker.

“I should go.” Neville speaks quietly, a low groan at the end of his words.

“Stay.” Harry shifts, and when Teddy looks, he sees Harry’s hand wrapped around Neville’s wrist. Neville’s eyes are wide, pupils blown dark, lips slightly parted.

“Er…”

Harry’s eyes close as he tugs Neville closer, reaching out to palm the nape of his neck, dragging him in for a kiss. The low whine from Neville is pure desperation, and the sound coils around Teddy’s heart.

It breaks whatever was holding them back from what they wanted.

There are sounds of clothes being shed by others, but Teddy doesn’t care. He unwraps Harry with care, fingers sliding inside the fly of his trousers to stroke the cotton-covered bulge he finds there.

Harry’s scent inflames him. Teddy’s tongue darts out, tasting the musk in the air before he pulls the cotton down. The tip of Harry’s cock has a dot of fluid welling up; Teddy strokes it, teasing it into his mouth, caressing it before he opens wide to let Harry slide all the way in.

Teddy can please Harry in ways he has never had. Teddy is _made_ for this, made to love Harry so perfectly. He opens his throat, pressing his nose to Harry’s abdomen as Harry’s prick slides in. Teddy murmurs, vibrating around Harry, body contracting to let Harry fuck that tight channel. He cups Harry’s balls, his palms slick all on their own as he rolls them. His body is alive, _awake_ , making itself perfect for every thrust.

Teddy can control this. He can bring Harry off in moments, he is sure of it.

He almost doesn’t notice the hands on him. Hands that lift his hips, a cock prodding against his furled arsehole. No one has prepared him, but Teddy doesn’t worry about that. His body will take care of itself. His body will provide whatever is needed. He wiggles his arse, spreads his knees, and feels the slick slide of something against his hole. He is open, and he is ready, and _oh fuck_ , he is pushed forward into Harry as someone fucks him, slamming into him from behind.

He groans, hands clutching at Harry’s thighs, trying to stay balanced. There is nothing he can do but sway between them, one cock in his throat the other in his arse, both using him unmercifully. 

It’s perfect.

Until they both pull out, and Teddy cries out from the loss. “Please!” He reaches for Harry as Harry gently tugs himself free of Teddy’s fingers. But Harry doesn’t go far, just enough to squirm out of his trousers and kick them aside. He still has on his socks—black socks, slouched down around his ankles—but Teddy doesn’t care.

Harry holds a hand out, and Teddy takes it, even as hands grasp him from behind to help lift him to his feet. His legs are made of jelly, wobbling and barely holding him up. Draco wedges himself under one shoulder, Neville under the other, and Harry leads the way to the one bed in the room.

“Are you sure—”

Teddy doesn’t let Harry finish. “I’ve wanted you since I was a teenager,” he says firmly. “I want Draco and you together. And I won’t leave Neville out, not knowing how he feels.”

Harry and Neville exchange a look, cheeks flushed, and Teddy has a feeling that Harry knows this too. That maybe he has always known but somehow things were never right.

Well, tonight, they will be.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed and reaches out; Draco and Neville help Teddy climb up, straddling Harry. He can feel his own arse, the blood pulsing, the ache as he is waiting to be filled. Someone slides fingers into him and Teddy doesn’t know who it is behind him, only that it feels good. He whimpers for more and Harry obliges, helping position himself. Harry is better than a finger, his cock long and thick as it presses into Teddy, opening him even wider than before.

Teddy takes him easily, his arse accommodating the man he has been wanting for so many years. His body knows what is needed, and makes him slick and perfectly sized for Harry to start thrusting in shallow motions.

It still isn’t enough.

There are two more people; it _can’t_ be enough yet.

Teddy feels someone behind him; it must be Draco, since Neville is standing in Teddy’s view, his fist wrapped around his short, wide cock, watching them all. Teddy goes still for a moment, bracing himself as Draco presses against his arse. He has never tried this before, but Teddy trusts his body. He lets his mind narrow down to the feeling of a second cock nudging at his arse, and he relaxes, opening. He doesn’t want to let it get too loose, but he wants Draco to slip into the slick channel easily. He waits until Draco is inside, seated deep, and Teddy is full of two cocks at once. When Draco starts to thrust, fucking him and Harry at the same time, Teddy groans and tightens his arse, letting his body clench down around them, tight and hot.

Neville’s breath is short and sharp, his hand moving rapidly over his cock as he watches them. Teddy reaches out, and Harry reaches with him. There is little Harry can do to fuck Teddy, other than let Draco fuck them both, so he helps with Neville. Together they manage to help Neville straddle Harry’s head, facing Teddy, and Teddy smiles.

He is _good_ at giving blow jobs. He is fucking _brilliant_ at it, the way his body adapts around each cock. Teddy places his hands on Neville’s hips, his mouth stretching wide around that fat cock. He presses his tongue flat against the underside, using it to add suction as he closes his lips and holds on tight. Neville isn’t long, so his rocking motions give no chance for gagging.

Fingers cover Teddy’s, tangling, holding on _with_ him, linked together as they hold Neville in place. Teddy glances down and sees Harry place his tongue at Neville’s hole, teasing him until Neville’s motion stutters. 

None of them are going to last long. Teddy is so full in two holes that he aches, desperate to get off. His cock rubs against Harry’s belly with each swaying stroke. Draco grunts, fingers tight on Teddy’s hips, gripping hard to keep him in place as his strokes grow more urgent, fucking him deep and hard.

Musk rises, the scent coiling in Teddy’s body, wrapping around him and making everything more urgent. Each touch, each stroke, the drips of fluid in his mouth and on his tongue… they all combine to make him harder, hotter, hungrier. Teddy moans, vibrating around Neville’s prick, and he is rewarded with a grunt from above and a sudden burst of bitter liquid that he swallows quickly.

Neville looks down at him, framing his face with large hands, kissing him gently after he withdraws. When he moves to the side, he wraps one hand around Teddy’s cock and strokes it while kissing Harry hungrily.

Teddy’s hands rest against Harry’s chest, and Harry reaches out to cover Draco’s hands on Teddy’s hips. The two older men move together, fucking Teddy between them, and that and the hand on his cock is too much sensation. The world greys as Teddy’s eyes close and he comes with a shout, body tight and taut, fingernails digging into Harry’s skin.

They fill him together, Draco only a moment before Harry. When Teddy falls forward, cradled in Harry’s arms, they both slip out, leaving Teddy sticky and satisfied.

#

By the time Teddy can think again, he is not sure how long has passed. His body no longer aches to be touched, and he is himself enough to wonder whether this has completely ruined his friendships, his family, and his career. He blinks open his eyes, and sees Neville looking at him across Harry’s chest. Someone presses in behind Teddy, so he must assume that is Draco.

As he blinks, Neville reaches out to touch his fringe, gently stroking down his cheek from there. “You looked so much like him, when you had me in your mouth.” His voice is low and quiet. “Thank you.”

“I was what you needed me to be.” Teddy feels a faint warmth in his cheeks. “What do I look like now?”

“Yourself.” A hand slides over his back as Draco speaks. “Blue hair, at the moment, and your skin holds your father’s scars. I’ve seen this particular arse in the showers after training, if I recall.”

His skin _feels_ like his own, but that hasn’t changed how good it is to be touched. That Draco is still touching him reassures him, gives Teddy hope that he hasn’t arsed this up beyond belief.

The Floo in the other room springs to life, and Neville rolls from bed. “Work calls,” he says while pulling on trousers, and Teddy watches him pad barefoot into the other room. Harry waves a hand, the first indication that he is awake, and the door closes between the room of official business, and the room where three men are still naked in bed.

When Harry rolls to one side without a word, his back to Teddy… that is when Teddy feels his heart drop low, and his stomach clench. “Harry—”

Harry holds up one hand. “Just wait, Teddy.”

“I didn’t plan this,” Teddy says, then falls silent as that hand points at him in an obvious order to _hush_.

When Harry finally turns, Teddy doesn’t know what to expect. He is so serious, brows drawn together in a frown that wrinkles the familiar lightning bolt scar. Teddy’s tongue darts out to wet lips that have gone dry, and Harry’s gaze drops to follow it.

Teddy can’t breathe from waiting.

“Am I fired?” he has to ask.

Harry laughs, the sound sharp in the silence. “Fired? Merlin, no, Teddy, you’re not fired. Falling into the plant was an accident, and we couldn’t have predicted how it would interact with your own natural abilities. I don’t want you anywhere near the rest of the investigation, however, because I don’t think this is something you’d want happening again.”

Teddy’s mouth opens, then closes. It sounds like a dismissal of everything this was. He quickly shakes his head. “Not with anyone else,” he agrees. “But with you and Draco… any time. Any way you’ll have me,” he admits. “If you—if you even want me, that is.”

Harry’s gaze meets Draco’s over Teddy’s head. He wants to turn, to see both sides of that silent conversation, but Teddy stays perfectly still instead. Waiting. Anxious.

His eyes close when Draco’s hands fall to his shoulders. Breath huffs out softly, as fingers stroke down his arms, light and firm. He is still in darkness when he feels a mouth press to his, pushing him back against Draco, sandwiching Teddy between the two lovers.

His eyes flicker open to meet Harry’s green gaze. “Is that a yes?”

“We’ll talk more when we’re home and I’m sure the pheromones you were giving off are completely out of our systems,” Harry says firmly. But his hands are on Teddy’s face, tangled with Draco’s as they hold him together. “But it’s definitely not a no.”

The door opens, and Teddy is relieved when no one jumps back away from him. Neville flushes to see the three of them together. “Er. Everything’s taken care of and in custody. They’re all just waiting for us to bring the evidence back. If you lot would like to… get dressed.”

It _isn’t_ over. The case isn’t done, and there’s work they have to move on now, quickly, before evidence is lost. But Harry’s safe, and Harry and Draco might… Teddy pauses as he’s pulling on his trousers and glances over to catch Draco’s gaze lingering on his arse, and Harry’s smile as he watches them both.

Teddy thinks he’s found where he fits properly now. And he’s looking forward to convincing both Harry and Draco just how good that fit will be.


End file.
